


a love like legend

by butterflylungs



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe(s), Angst, Canon Universe, M/M, Mentions of drugs and alcohol, Sad Ending, Soulmates, mentions of a character overdosing, very brief mention of character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 22:13:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4683275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflylungs/pseuds/butterflylungs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Here's the truth: the first time they meet isn't the first time they meet.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Here's another truth: neither of them know that.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Here's a lie: maybe this time they won't break each other's hearts.</i>
</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Harry and Louis are soulmates destined to lose each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a love like legend

**Author's Note:**

> Heed the tags, please! I apologize for any mistakes as this isn't beta'd.

There's this boy. He has brown curls and dimples in his cheeks, green haunting eyes and a smile to die for.

There's this boy, and Louis doesn't know who he is but he dreams him every night, and he doesn't know why. He's like fog, he slips between his fingers and never talks, and Louis forgets the details when he wakes up.

He can never remember his dreams, all they ever leave behind is a deep sense of emptiness inside him like a bullet hole in his heart; he wonders why the left side of his bed feels so cold without anybody there. The answer never comes.

He never really feels warm anymore. Green is his favourite color, but if you asked he couldn't explain why.

*  
  
Here's the truth: the first time they meet isn't the first time they meet. 

Here's another truth: neither of them know that. 

Here's a lie: maybe this time they won't break each other's hearts.

*  
  
In this universe, it happens in a dimly lit bathroom during X-Factor. Louis is 18 years old, wide-eyed with marvel and hands shaking with fear; he can't believe this is happening to him.

It's his chance at becoming someone, at achieving something he's always wanted; he couldn't be happier, or, at least, that’s what he tells himself.

_Maybe this will fill the gap in my chest, maybe this is what I've been looking for_ , he thinks. There's something missing in him, but he can't tell what it is. He's lived with it his whole life, and he got used to it in the way you reluctantly accept what you can't change. It's there, he can't fix it. There's something wrong with him, and he won't let it stop him.

He dries his hands, his mind far away, when he turns around and bumps into another body. 

“Shit, sorry.” He curses, backing away and looking up. The first thing he sees are green, green eyes that stir a faint feeling of recognition in his stomach. 

He blinks, taking in the boy’s face. He’s...pretty, baby fat still clinging to his features, curls and dimples and an apologetic smile. 

“S’okay. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” A pause, curious eyes that skim over his face. “I’m Harry.”

“Louis.” He says automatically, and finally he manages to shake off his thoughts and smile at Harry. 

And that’s how it goes this time.

*  
  
See, there’s this theory. Space-time is infinite, and if it goes on forever, it means that at some point it must start repeating. It means that there isn’t one universe, but a multitude of them that exist at the same time.

There another theory, and this one says that if you look far enough, you might encounter another version of you. This isn’t quite true, not for Harry and Louis.

They never meet themselves, but they’re bound to keep meeting each other, over and over again, in every universe they’re born in.

Every time, they fall in love.

*

There was 1941. They meet during their childhood, and they never part again; they grow up in each other’s arms, and love comes easy this time. Well, as easy as it can be in their world. There’s stolen kisses in dark alleys and nights spent under the covers of Louis’ bed while his mom is at work. There’s their hopes and promises, their tender hearts and innocence.

Louis says: “One day it won’t be like this, darling. I promise. One day we won’t have to hide, we’ll live somewhere on the countryside, yeah? Maybe I’ll buy us a farm, and the war will be over and no one will care about two guys holding hands. We’ll have the best life, you and me, I swear. We’ll have eternity.”

Harry smiles at his words, and Louis kisses the hollows in his cheeks with affection. The room is dark, silent except for their soft breaths, and the moment seems to stretch forever. Louis wants to capture it and put it in a jar, maybe to look at it on bad days when the sun won’t seem to shine through the heavy clouds, when everything seems hopeless. 

All they’ve ever known is each other: for Louis, love is Harry. Love is a deep voice, a dimpled smile, a shade of green. Love is them at 10, 16, 18. Love is fear, love is a secret. 

On a sunny day three weeks after Louis promises forever, love is pain.

“What do you mean you got drafted?” His voice is high with denial, and Harry won’t look at him. He stares at his hands, his bottom lip trembling. They’re sitting on Louis’ bed, side by side, but to Louis, there’s an ocean already between them. 

“I-I...got the letter this m-morning. I leave next week, I...Lou.” Harry’s eyes finally meet his. He’s never seen him look so scared. “Lou, I don’t wanna go. I don’t wanna-”

A sob cuts off his sentence, and Louis is helpless against the need to protect this boy with everything he has. He takes Harry in his arms and starts petting his hair in what is meant to be a soothing manner, but his hands are trembling visibly. 

Harry’s going to war. Harry’s going to leave, and he might not come back. He closes his eyes and presses his face in the mass of curls resting on chest, and tries not to weep. He needs to hold it together, for Harry.

“Shh, sweetheart. It’s okay, it’s going to be okay, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. It’s okay.”

They spend the days they have left holding to each other as if they can stop time from moving forward with the strength of their hugs.

Harry leaves. 

He never comes back.

Louis doesn’t buy that farm, after all.

*

They feel like a part of them is missing until they meet each other. They only remember in dreams that are gone by morning.

Sometimes they learn to live with it. Sometimes they don’t. 

*  
  
There’s another life in which what tears them apart is this: Harry can’t deal with the missing piece of himself. Everything is dull, happiness something foreign to him; he only knows drugs and alcohol, He chases happiness in bottles of tequila and white powder; he tries and tries and tries, and when Louis comes along he’s broken in too many places.

Louis is bright and loud and gives Harry a better high than any drug ever could. They fall fast, they fall hard. 

But love isn’t stronger than addictions. Love can’t erase years of recklessness, and as much as Louis tries to help, that haunted look never leaves the back of Harry’s eyes.

It’s three years later, and he can’t stand it anymore. Can’t stand the stench of alcohol in Harry’s breath, the blood-filled eyes, can’t stand by and watch Harry destroy himself.

“I can’t stop, Lou. I’m trying, I just…” Harry says every time. 

_Am I not enough?_ , he thinks. _Why am I not enough?_ He loves Harry so much, he loves this ruined boy that poured sunlight into the cracks of his bones, but love doesn’t always mean staying and love doesn’t always mean selflessness. 

The third time he has to call an ambulance on Harry because he’s found him passed out on the bathroom floor with powder under his nose, he realizes Harry will never stop doing this, because his addictions have always been his reality. He can’t replace them.

He packs his bags and leaves. The echo of _not enough, coward, never enough_ follows him anywhere he goes.

*

The pattern: they meet, they fall in love, they break each other. That’s the tragedy of it. 

*

“If you could have anything in the whole world, what would it be?”

_You_ , Louis thinks. _You, you in my bed, you in the mornings and evenings and every moment in between, you, just you, forever, with a ring on your finger and your lips against mine._

The sky is a vibrant blue above them, the grass soft under their bodies. It’s a beautiful warm day, but the bitter ice encasing Louis’ heart doesn’t care.

“I dunno, Haz. I’ve got everything I need right here, don’t I?” He smiles cheekily. Harry laughs, and pokes him in the stomach.

“There must be something you want, come on. I wanna know.”

He could never deny Harry anything. He sighs like replying is a big burden, the answer easy and ready on his tongue. _I want you to love me._

He can’t say that. He’s too scared, he’d rather live with his secret forever than have Harry reject his feelings. Not that he would be cruel, no. Harry would be the opposite: understanding, gentle, maybe even a little pitiful. He doesn’t need that. 

“I want to move to a big city. I want my mom to not struggle with money. I want...I want my favourite footie team to win every game and I want to be happy. I want us to be friends for the rest of our lives.”

He swallows the words he doesn’t say and glances at Harry, who is watching him with a soft look. It makes him feel vulnerable, like he just spilled his guts on the green grass, like he’s letting Harry see him bleed. 

“We will, Lou. You’ll get everything you want, yeah?”

Their fingers interwine. Louis closes his eyes and imagines a world where it means something else.

The _I’m in love with you_ stays locked in his throat for a lot of time after that; if Louis had found the courage to say those words, this is what would have happened: Harry would have said it back. He would’ve found out that Harry felt the same, but like him, he was too scared of being rejected, of ruining what they had.

Their paths don’t split. Years later, Louis watches Harry get married to someone else, plays his role as best man, and buries his heart at the bottom of a bottle of vodka that night.

*  
  
Sometimes they don’t even get a chance; there’s a lifetime where Harry is born right as Louis dies. In another one, their shoulders barely brush on a busy New York sidewalk, and when Louis turns around Harry is already gone, swallowed by the crowd. The knot in his throat doesn’t ease for a very, very long time, the taste of a missed opportunity clogging his mouth.

All these universes have one thing in common: there’s never an happy ending for them. Dozens of lifetimes, and the all end the same way. 

If Louis and Harry knew, they’d wonder: _what happened in the first lifetime? Were we unhappy? Did we fuck up so bad that we condemned ourselves to this?_

Is there a last universe, at the end of everything, where finally they get to grow old together, have the life they want? 

How many heartbreaks can a soul bear before it gives up?

*

There are times when they don’t know how to love right. Their touches are poison they can’t enough of; Harry grows up in a broken home and Louis doesn’t trust anyone. They fuck and they smoke together, they touch each other gently in the middle of the night and pretend it never happened when the sun rises.

Louis doesn’t know how to let anyone in, how to love without hurting. Pain is what Harry knows best: they’re a perfect match, a ticking bomb waiting to explode.

They live in the moment, never dare to speak of the future. “Live fast while you’re young and all that shit, darling.” Louis says, his lips curled around a joint. 

They fall into bed with other people but always come back to each other. Louis can’t let go of this boy he doesn’t trust; trust means giving someone power over you, and he’s not willing to take that risk. 

They sit together on the edge of the curb, near the skate park. 

“You seen Zayn lately?” Louis asks. Tries not to make it sound like an accusation; he knows Zayn and Harry hook up sometimes, and he has no right to be jealous. He does the same thing with Liam.

There’s a lovebite on Harry’s neck, a mark that isn’t Louis’ doing. He itches to latch his mouth over it and suck it out of Harry’s skin. He hates himself a little.

“Yeah, saw him yesterday. Heard from Liam, lately?” Harry replies, his voice a little mocking. Louis shrugs. 

“What, you jealous?” He can’t help himself, can’t help but projecting his issues on someone else. 

“Are you?”

Louis snorts. “No.” _Yes._

The silence makes Louis turn his head towards Harry; the other boy’s gaze is full of something he can’t name. He feels naked. 

“You are, aren’t you.” It’s not a question. How did it get to a point where Harry can read him so well? This isn’t supposed to happen. 

“I’m not, what the fuck are you talking about.” He stands up, takes out a cigarette. 

“You are, stop lying to me. Louis, listen-”

“Fuck off, Harry.” Why can’t he keep his hands steady? 

“No. Now you listen. I can’t fucking do this anymore, Louis. This...whatever this is. Having only half of you.”

The cigarette finally lights, and the first inhale of smoke doesn’t ease the pressure in his lungs. He doesn’t look at Harry. 

“No one is forcing you to stay here with me.” 

“You are! You don’t even realize it, but I can’t fucking leave, if you haven’t noticed, I tried, I tried so hard and I keep coming back for scraps, and I’m sick of it!”

As if Louis is keeping Harry chained to himself. 

“How is that my fault?” Voice devoid of color; he’s not sure he can feel much anymore. 

“You made me fall in love with you! That’s your fucking fault, you asshole. I-you...I wasn’t supposed to. I don’t fucking want to love you, you’re...this, us...we’re so fucking unhealthy, Lou. But you keep holding me here, and I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe with you and I can’t breathe without you. You make me feel fucking trapped.”

Every words is a knife to his chest. The thing is, Harry is right. He’s always right. They steal oxygen from each other, selfishly and cruelly. Harry wants too much at the same time: he could never settle for one person, he’s got too much love to give. He might love Louis, but he also loves Zayn. He can’t give up neither of them. Doesn’t know how to.

Louis doesn’t love Liam, not like that. He loves Harry like fire loves gasoline, like misery loves innocent people, like death loves warzone. They burn each other, and in the process destroy themselves.

It’s not right. He lets his cigarette fall to the ground, stubs it out with his worn-out sneakers. Looks at Harry one last time, takes in his dead eyes and the unhappy curl of his lips. 

“Then don’t love me. I won’t be your cage, Harry. You can’t leave? Then I’m leaving you.”

He turns around and doesn’t say goodbye, ignores how walking away from Harry feels like  
breaking his own bones. Harry doesn’t call after him. 

He gets wasted, finds Liam and fucks him, the ghost of Harry stuck to the back of his eyelids.

*

Then, we have this universe. They meet in a bathroom by chance, get put together in the same band thanks to a twist of fate, and they become One Direction. They lose X-Factor, but find each other. 

They’re on top of the world, dizzy with the sudden fame and love and the screams of thousands of fans. They can’t hold hands in public, but it’s okay because kissing behind closed doors is enough. They have everything they’ve ever dreamed of and it feels greedy, asking for more. 

Everything still seems so fragile sometimes, even after almost two years, like their success could crumble like a house of cards any time. 

In their room, in their house, they press their palms together and think about the future.

“Do you think...Sometimes I feel like I’ve known you for ages.” Harry murmurs. 

Louis has felt lighter since he met Harry. He’s felt more. He knows what Harry’s talking about, but he can’t explain it.

“Maybe we met each other in a previous life or something.” He jokes, shrugging. 

“Yeah, maybe.” Harry seems to think about it for a second before talking again. “Do you think we were happy, then? Like we are now?”

“We were the happiest, I’m sure. Can’t imagine a world where we aren’t.”

He doesn’t even know what they’re really talking about, because the idea of reincarnation and other lives is ridiculous, but there’s a spark in Harry’s eyes, like he might really believe it. Louis is willing to go along with it, just to make Harry happy.

“Maybe we didn’t have to hide. That would be nice, right? Not having to hold back. Being able to show our love to the rest of the world.”

A kind of sadness creeps in Harry’s voice. Louis immediately grabs his hand and holds it tight, hating when this happens. They don’t think about it much, they try to be grateful for what they've already been given, but it’s hard sometimes. Deep down, they can't help but wish for this one more thing. 

Dreaming of freedom is a forbidden secret held by the pale walls of their home.

“Love, hey, none of that. This, the hiding, it’s just...temporary. One day we’ll tell the world just how much we love each other, yeah? We've got the rest of our lives, Haz.”

Louis realizes a little too late that assuming they’ll be together for so long might be too forward, but the smile that immediately blooms on Harry’s face erases his doubts. 

“Forever?”

“Yeah, baby. Forever. I promise.”

*

Louis learns the hard way to never promise anyone forever again.

**Author's Note:**

> PS: This fic doesn't reflect my beliefs at all. I'm not a tinhatter and I don't think Harry and Louis are really together or that they were ever closeted by their management. This is a work of fiction. Thanks.
> 
> Soooo, that was my first time writing HL and in general my second attempt at 1D fic. I hope it didn't suck too much lmao, I got this idea one day while I was trying to nap, and I've been wanting to write this pairing for a while so I just went for it. Again, I apologize for any grammar mistakes and such but unfortunately English isn't my native language and this wasn't beta'd.


End file.
